Learning to Live Again
by iguessiwritefanfictionnow
Summary: In this multiple chapter story, Lucas tries to live after suffering a great loss.
1. Chapter 1

The gallery was cold, but the room it looked over appeared cooler to him. Although he couldn't smell it, Lucas imagined the smell of cleanliness, but it did nothing to calm him. His wife, Peyton Scott, lay on the table below, and he looked down as several doctors meticulously operated on her. They'd just married, and everything had gone beautifully until they returned home and Peyton hit the floor.

Lucas had come in from the garage, having pulled the cover off of Peytons refinished car and called for her. "Peyton? Mrs. Scott?" he'd called, and that's when he saw her, near lifeless, lying in the trail of rose petals he'd laid out for them. "Stay with me," was all he could tell her, and all he knew was that he couldn't lose her.

On the way to the hospital, the only thing Lucas could think about was his To-Do list. He'd planned and carried out everything perfectly from the moment he woke up on his wedding day. From the carefully fitted tux, to the flower arrangements, the return home, the car that took months to repair, he'd followed each step carefully, flawlessly. How could this happen? The last thing on the list was 'have our wedding night.' Why didn't they finish the list? He'd wrote a list, that's what lists were for. Peyton collapsing was not on the list.

As Lucas looked down and the clock ticked, he grew increasingly hopeful that she'd make it through, they were near done the surgery, and the sight of his newborn child gave him the purest of joys. He put his hand on the glass, smiling, "you can do this Peyton," he said, watching as his daughter was cleaned. When a nurse motioned for him to come down and take the baby, his heart started to pound. Beat by beat coursed through him as he took the steps two at a time, both nervous and excited to hold his newborn child. His new born child with Peyton Scott. When he finally arrived at the operating room doors, the nurse was already stepping out. "Someone is coming down from the nursery to settle you two into a room, wait here, I have to get back in there," she said, handing him the baby. Lucas was looking down and introducing himself happily to his daughter when the nurse swung the door open, and that was when his world came crashing down. He did his best to clutch the baby in one arm as his other arm pushed open the operating room door, searching for confirmation of the sound he'd heard. The doctors were taking off their gloves, each one of them looking at the man who'd just burst into their operating room. The nurses were beginning to pick up the gauze that was strewn across the tables and toss it in the trash. The room was filled with silence as Lucas fell to his knees, his daughter in his arms, and the steady beep of the monitor telling him Peytons heart had stopped beating. "Time of death," 8:47 PM."


	2. Chapter 2

"Time of death, 8:47 PM,"

"Time of death, 8:47 PM,"

"Time of death,

8:47 PM,"

"8:47 PM."

Lucas left the hospital that day with more pain in his heart than any person should ever know. They had been warned, they'd even prepared for Peytons death, but those moments were the most gut wrenching moments of his life. You can't prepare for that.

The drive home was easy, Haley drove him. The nurses were to keep the baby overnight for observation, she could come home in the morning. That was easy. Sitting down on the bed, covered in rose petals, even that was easy. It was the living that was hard. Each thought, each breath, each word spoken without Peyton felt like a struggle. Haley had set an alarm for him, even when Lucas insisted he couldn't sleep. The radio came on at precisely 7:00 AM, Lucas knew. He knew because he'd watched each minute on the clock tick by, counting them. People always say that death gets easier as time goes on, but it had been ten hours and thirteen minutes since Peytons heart stopped beating, and it hadn't gotten any easier.

It was in that same spot Brooke Davis found him, where he'd been left by Haley, the alarm blaring. It read 7:34 now, and the man on the radio still chirped happily. "He must not know Peyton is dead," Lucas said by way of explanation. Brooke came to sit beside him, "he must not," she confirmed. Brookes' voice was quiet, harsh. The same way Lucas's would have been if he'd spent the night sobbing, but he never found the strength to grieve. Grieving was a part of life, something only the living could do, but Lucas didn't feel like he could live, not right now.

"I came to take you to the hospital – Peytons things – and the baby," Brooke looked up at Lucas with tears welling in her eyes, the loss of her best friend weighing heavily on her small frame. Her heart broke all over again when he didn't – or couldn't – look at her. "The baby," he said, as if he'd forgotten. Slowly, painfully, he tore his eyes from the clock to look at Brooke, "I don't have any - any milk, or – I don't have breasts. Peyton had breasts. I don't have bottles – I .." Suddenly, Lucas stood, grabbing the alarm clock off the table and hurling it across the room and where it embedded in the wall, "I don't have anything!" he screamed. It was then that Brooke broke down and gave in to her sobs, and the sound of her pain filled the room. "Brooke I – I'm sorry," Lucas fumbled his words, his throat was raw and dry. "I didn't mean to scare you," he told her.

"I came here – to make you – to make you feel b-b-better but all I can do is c-cry," Brooke told him between sobs. Lucas sat on the bed beside her and pulled her toward him until her head rested comfortably on his chest. He held onto her while she cried, and slowly, silently, Lucas began to cry too. As the tears slid down his cheeks, he felt a piece of himself click back into place. He was a father now, and he had a baby waiting for him. "Can you help me?" he finally asked Brooke when she quieted down. Lucas was relieved to feel her nod against him. "C'mon then," he told her, easing them both off of the bed, "let's go pick her up."


	3. Chapter 3

Lucas and Brooke arrived at the hospital mid morning, after stocking up on the formula that Lucas had hoped he'd never need. He stumbled through the entire process of identifying himself to the nursery staff and taking his daughter in his arms, but it was made possible by Brookes presence. She carefully answered questions and finished sentences when Lucas trailed off or couldn't find the strength to speak, and she took the paperwork from the nurse while Lucas fastened his newborn into the car seat they'd brought. Eventually, the three of them exited the hospital and were on route to Lucas's home, where he would begin his life as a single father.

Lucas swung open the door and looked around, almost expecting to see Peyton. When he didn't, his heart sank and he set the car seat carrying his sleeping daughter on the floor. He collapsed in the arm chair next to it covered his eyes with his hand, willing the tears not to escape. He sat in silence for some time, while the baby slept and Brooke unloaded the supplies they'd purchased. She readied a bottle almost expertly, and had it on hand for when the baby woke. Lucas watched the clock tick by and began calculating how many he'd missed count of while he was out. It was now 11:03, it had been fourteen hours and fifteen minutes since Peytons passing. Lucas continued to count, whispering the minutes aloud as they passed, "fourteen hours and sixteen minutes, fourteen hours and seventeen minutes," he went on. "Fourteen hours and twenty eight minut-" Lucas was cut off by the sound of Brooke screaming at him.

"Lucas! Your daughter is crying right next to you and you're counting?" She stood over him, holding the baby girl. He hadn't even noticed she was crying, and now she was in Brookes arms. She shook her head at him furiously and went to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle. Lucas stared blankly after, unfeeling, unmoving. Brooke ran the cold formula under the hot water tap until it was a good temperature and came to sit on the sofa. She laid the baby in her right arm while her left held the bottle. She looked down into the eyes of the unnamed baby and coo'd to her, telling her sweet things in her soft and loving voice. Lucas continued to count.

"Fourteen hours and thirty three minutes, fourteen hours and thirty four minutes."

"Shut up!" Brooke shouted at him. Lucas stood and left the room without a backward glance.


End file.
